


The Death of Darth Vader

by Archaeologyfiend



Series: From a Certain Point of View [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Death Star, Else this will make no sense, Kinda, Movie: Star Wars: A New Hope, OC's - Freeform, Tatooine Slave Culture, You need to at least read part 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 01:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17539670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archaeologyfiend/pseuds/Archaeologyfiend
Summary: Leia Organa is kidnapped by the Empire, expects to be tortured but instead is dragged off by the new Princess Mile. Luke goes to save her, questioning the motive of one Ben Kenobi who is shocked that his Aunt Soka has given him some training. Anakin is plotting.OrLuke, Leia and Anakin all meet. Leia makes some wrong assumptions and Han is very confused. Obi-Wan is in shock.





	The Death of Darth Vader

_This is incredibly boring_. Milè almost giggled at the thought projected through the Force from her uncle. She stood slightly in front of him, next to Tarkin, equal to him despite the fact that she outranked him. Even after two years, and with her uncle flanking her at all times in supposed ‘punishment’, some of the military commanders still didn’t quite treat her with respect. Not that it mattered- the old raison clearly had no plans to have her inherit _anything_ off of him. It was simply a ruse to punish Vader for his failings and for Palpatine to make him think that he was training her as his replacement.

That they had been undermining him for years was quite pleasantly going under his radar.

Milè shifted uncomfortably, tugging subtly at the stiff blue dress she wore. Hidden away beneath the folds of the skirt, strapped to her thigh and accessible through a nifty hidden ‘pocket’, her sabre rested, waiting. They were all waiting really. The dress was new, one of many she had had to get made up since her growth spurt once again. She was still short though, something Uncle Ani liked to tease her about whenever they were alone, and the mask was gone.

_I’m bored too_ she sent back, feeling his amusement leak down to her. _You’re lucky. You get to hide behind that stupid mask._

_I thought it was frightening?_

_Only to the idiotic_ Milè pouted uncharitably. _She_ had most certainly never been bothered by it, but then again, she had never been on the other side of her uncle’s red lightsabre. Anakin gave her a mental poke, right as one of the many Stormtrooper lackies dragged her cousin into the room to face Tarkin. The insipid general had a smug look on his face, despite the fact that it was _her uncle_ who was responsible for bringing her onto this monstrosity.

“Grand Moff Tarkin,” Leia started, tone derisive, “I should have expected to find you holding Vader’s leash.” This was said with a heavy eye towards her uncle who was currently standing in the way of Organa’s view of her. “I recognised your foul stench when I was brought on board.” Tarkin’s lips twitched at that and Milè could only agree.

_Did he always smell so bad?_ She wondered and heard Anakin’s mental snort into the Force.

_What of spoiled cheese and feet? Always._ She couldn’t keep the smile off her face as Tarkin replied.

“Charming to the last,” Tarkin said with a withheld chuckle to himself. “You don’t know how hard I found it, signing the order to terminate your life.” He went in to stroke her face but Milè gave her most delicate cough and her uncle raised a hand, almost as if to remove Tarkin’s and the man dropped it instantly. He might act high and mighty about having supposed orders over the most feared leader in the Imperial Navy, but he still wouldn’t dare face him outright and not when she was there, being groomed as the Emperor’s heir. She stepped forward, around her hulking guard and gave Leia a pleasant smile.

“Hello, Princess Organa,” she said politely, a smile on her lips. She had last seen her at the gala where she had been appointed Imperial Princess. She was a woman now, but she didn’t look too much different. A slight loss of remaining baby fat, her eyes further hardened by the terrors of war with the Empire. “It is lovely to see you again.” Leia blinked, eyes flicking between her and Tarkin, as if wondering who was really in charge.

“Your Highness,” she said, equally polite, but cold, with none of the warmth she had shown before. “I am surprised you remember me.” Perhaps she thought that she was the one to have ratted her out? Well, she wouldn’t be completely wrong, although she would have no idea why they had done it.

Uncle Owen’s last message had been… disturbing and the fact that he was still in their private med wing recovering, spoke volumes. Sho was still on Tatooine, looking for Luke who had apparently been out chasing an astromech droid and was still missing. Milè turned her focus back to the task at hand, pasting a bewildered look on her face.

“Why wouldn’t I? You were interested in my Aunt Padme.” She gave her a disarming smile, aware of the twitch Tarkin gave, the brief distaste that ran across his face, at the mention of Senator Amidala. “You were kind to me.” Leia gave her a calculating look as Tarkin stepped forward again.

“If we are to get back to the matter at hand?” he said, a thin veneer of sarcasm coating his voice. Milè had the impression he thought her nothing but a silly girl and was practically gloating with how he seemed to have this situation covered. Milè gave him her sweetest smile.

“Of course, Grand Moff. My apologies Princess Organa, but it would appear that some of your men have been revealed to be Rebels that we have been looking for, for some time,” she said and Tarkin _twitched_ , face contorting behind her and she could feel the wave of amusement from her uncle.

“Do you have a problem, Grad Moff Tarkin?” he asked, the vocoder making his voice deep and menacing. A flare of the Dark Side made the room _ever so slightly_ colder and Tarkin gave a strained smile, his hatred bottled up behind his eyes.

“Of course not, Lord Vader. By your leave, Your Majesty.” His bow was only _just_ low enough. She gave him a polite nod and stepped forward, eyeing her cousin’s slightly dishevelled appearance. This would not do. She gestured Anakin over, holding out a hand to grip his arm.

“Uncle, please remove the restrains from the Princess. It’s unseemly for her to be so treated for her _subjects’_ alliances.” Leia’s eyes narrowed, her nose flaring in fury. She knew this was a game. Good.

“Yes, mistress,” Vader replied, releasing himself from her touch for only a moment to undo the cuffs on Leia. At the same, and apparently without her knowledge, he pulled her bright Force presence under the raging sandstorm of his shields, making her appear to be null in the Force. A better protection while they were in each other’s presence as he had done her whole term as Senator.

“The Imperial Senate will not stand for this,” she said stiffly as Milè looped her arm through hers, tensing at her touch. Milè gave her a sombre look.

“I’m afraid that won’t much matter. Grandfather has disbanded the Senate for being too superfluous in this time of war,” she said, supposedly mournfully but actually wanting to roll her eyes at the ridiculous excuse. He wasn’t even trying to be benevolent these days.

“Grandfather? I wasn’t aware the Naberrie’s were so related to him,” Leia sniffed haughtily. She was eyeing the mask of Vader behind them as they moved through the Death Star, away from watching eyes.

“Oh, not by blood. The Emperor insists I call him so though. It is to keep up morale.” She gave an innocent smile, a flutter of her lashes as she had perfected so long ago. The Princess of Alderaan was eating this up as well as Palpatine. Interesting. “It is my blood relation to Lord Vader that has given me my position in the Empire.” Leia shot her a look and then one behind her, stiff and tense as they reached her quarters.

“You are Force Sensitive.” She gave a valiant attempt to tighten the useless shields around her mind as her uncle closed the door behind them. He locked it, both mechanically and with the Force, before taking out the jammer and flicking it on. No doubt Palpatine would take this bait for what it was- a move on her uncle’s part to remove him from power, although it would not be through influencing her.

“You have no need of your shields in here.” Milè wished that he could remove the mask but for now it was safer that Leia think he was still chained to the suit. That she had no knowledge of the secret in their luggage, still surreptitiously packed away on the ship. “My niece has a proposition for you.” Leia’s eyes narrowed and then widened, almost within the same second. She blinked several times, staring, aghast.

“No,” she almost breathed, disgust lacing her voice entirely. “No. Senator Amidala would never marry a vile creature like you.” Anakin bore the insult well on the outside but Milè knew he had flinched in the suit. So, she did what she did best. She kicked her under the table. Leia gave a sharp yelp, not having expected it.

“Mother was at the wedding and you know _nothing_ about Uncle,” she said viciously, and Leia blinked, rubbing her sore ankle. Milè’s boot had left a dark sooty mark on her pristine white dress and she almost smirked at the sight. Oh, how she wished she could shatter that stupid lie. “Besides, we aren’t here to talk abut Aunt Padme. We’re here to talk about the Rebellion and your father.” Leia stiffened once again, sensing the trap.

“The Death Star is currently in orbit over your… home planet of Alderaan.” Uncle Ani’s disgust at having to say that was palpable. “Tarkin is planning to use it as target practice to pry the location of the Rebel base from you. Should you give a false planet or one too far away from this system, it will be destroyed. Knowing Tarkin, he will destroy it whatever you choose.” Leia went pale, fury warring with fear in her eyes. “Luckily for you, my niece has decided to give you another way out.”

“So long as you co-operate with me, Tarkin has no excuse to use the Death Star. And whoever comes to rescue you will be a perfect opportunity to destroy this monstrosity.” Leia stared at them, clearly trying to work out what their angle was through her panic.

“I thought that the Death Star was the Emperor’s project,” she said cautiously.

“Yes. The Emperor’s,” Anakin said firmly. There was a long moment of silence before Leia spoke again.

“What do you want from me? You’re not Rebels.” Milè giggled at that statement.

“Not everyone who opposes the wrinkled old raison are members of the Rebellion,” she said through her laughter and had to physically stop herself from laughing harder when Leia blanched at her choice of words, staring. She gave her a smile and a shrug. “Mother would ground me if I repeated what Uncle calls him.”

“Not just your mother,” rumbled the vocoder, amusement clear and Milè pressed her lips together to hide her smile. Leia blinked, still shocked and off-kilter.

“We’ll give you some time to think,” Milè said pleasantly. “Uncle, if you would be so kind as to show Leia to her quarters?” The mask bobbed, and he pulled his daughter up, far more gently than Leia had been expecting, although he did not fight when she shook his hand off. Milè could feel his hurt in the Force and she sent him reassurance before it fell to the familiar depressed state, she had first known from him. It wouldn’t do for all of Aunt Villes’ hard work to be undone by Leia’s ungratefulness.

She waited until they left her room, before she turned to her books, turning off the jammer as she opened the book to the page that her ‘Grandfather’ had instructed her to read.

* * *

Leia could not relax until Vader was gone, leaving her in a set of rooms not too far from his _niece’s_ , mind whirling with far too many thoughts. This had not gone how she had imagined it would. She had expected Tarkin and Vader, and perhaps she ought to have put some thought towards the little princess, certainly expecting a torture session that never happened, but she had not been expecting _this_. They were offering her a way out, but she didn’t know what the price was, didn’t know what they wanted from her. She wished she was able to call her father, to ask for his advice or just speak to her mother, but they both were too far away. Besides, it would be suspicious to call them now. It would destroy the lie Milè had told to _help_ her. And now, not only was she indebted to her, but she had also potentially brought Master Kenobi into this conflict.

Her father had told her stories about the old Jedi Knight, one of the only two surviving members of the old Jedi Order. The only two Master’s left out of the countless there had been. He had said he was the one who had initially defeated Vader, who had put him into that dreaded suit. Personally, Leia had always quietly thought that he ought to have done a better job of it, should have killed him outright for murdering Senator Amidala but that didn’t matter now. He had done it once, surely he could do it again? Then again, Vader had the advantage here and he probably knew he was coming. And by the sounds of it, they had already set up a trap and an excuse for this battle station to be destroyed.

She settled for pacing, no longer bothered by her bruised ankle. She had twisted it running from the Stormtroopers and that brat of a princess had kicked right on the sorest spot, all in her petty revenge for speaking the truth. Because it _had_ to be. Senator Amidala would _never_ have stooped to such a man, if he even was one at all. But a quiet little voice, that traitorous voice that had started two years ago the last time they met, whispered that her father must have known. Especially after she had told him and now his reaction made a little more sense. But then… _even in the days of the Republic, it was never the done thing for a Senator to marry a poor ex-slave_. Those had Pooja’s exact words that day, when discussing her sister’s husband. Had she known? It seemed inconceivable but… but if they knew it would make their rejection of the Rebellion make a little more sense. Did that mean they thought Vader was a slave now? Were they trying to save him from his servitude to the Emperor and knew the Rebellion wanted him dead? It would make sense. It would make Pooja’s statement after Milè’s appointment make more sense too. She’d heard it whispered that the Imperial Princess shared a strong resemblance to her aunt, remembered so fondly on Naboo. _A shade of his daughter_.

Suddenly, Leia felt cold, sitting unconsciously on the bed. Her father had admitted that the Rebellion had gotten rid of Vader’s children. Of his daughter. Several times in fact, flinching as always. Her father had _killed_ his friend’s children. It made her feel sick, that her father had had to shoulder that burden for so long, unable to tell anyone. And he hadn’t _known_ that they were married, had probably only worked it out those two years ago. No wonder he had been so shocked, so horrified. No wonder he had wrapped her up in a hug so tightly when she had finally landed at home all those years ago. She vowed she would give him one back when they met again, tell him that that sacrifice hadn’t been in vain.

It took an hour before Leia got tired of sitting and contemplating, beginning to pace once again. Had it been long enough that it would no longer be suspicious to comm her parents? Was there even one in these rooms? She searched through them, wary of leaving for who might be on the other side. Who knew what the princess and her hulking guard were up to, putting together some sort of scheme behind closed doors? She had to find a way to warn them, her parents, Kenobi, _someone_. And she couldn’t very well do that sitting on her laurels, listening to blatant lies. Vader had killed the Senator, his wife. There was no reason for the Naberries to defend him except that they were being forced to, that Vader was using the youngest daughter for his own gains. That was the only acceptable explanation. The others were nothing but fallacies.

Decision made, Leia soon came upon a comm, placed very deliberately in the centre of a drawer. She ignored it in favour of looking for some others but then it started to ring. She looked at it, the frequency unrecognised by the commlink, eyes narrowed. Who would it be? Her parents, being forced to ransom? The Emperor? Tarkin to fulfil his desire to wipe Alderaan from the galaxy? She carefully picked it up, placing it on the desk and then, taking two steps back, leaned forward and answered it.

“This is Princess Leia Organa. Who is this?” she asked, slightly forcefully but it had been a long day. Her patience for schemes had run thin.

“I know who you are,” came a male voice, gravelly and slightly mechanic, unfamiliar. She frowned- there was no accompanying holo, just a voice and a scrambling signal. “Your rescue team has dropped out of hyperspace.” Leia froze, breath caught in her throat. “Do not move. They will find you.” With that the link disconnected and Leia was left considering her options.

Unfortunately, there were only a dismal few.

* * *

Luke wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when they landed on the Death Star. Hiding in Han’s smuggling compartments was not one of them, although considering some of the stories Aunt Soka had told him, it would not be the strangest thing his family had done. Heavy footsteps clunked about above them, the Stormtroopers presumably searching the ship for any sign of life while they hid, Han’s frustration leaking through the Force. The odd sensation of being dunked in cold water had abated soon after it appeared. Now it felt like someone had just wrapped him in a warm blanket, made up of the warmth and love he had felt with Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen back home on Tatooine. It was… not unpleasant, although certainly unexpected. _Did someone just drag me under their shields?_ Luke wondered idly as the Stormtroopers receded.

“Lucky you had these compartments,” Luke noted as he helped push the top of the compartment away, thankful for the fresh air, once they were certain it was clear. He found that he wasn’t exactly fond of small cramped spaces.

“These are for smuggling, I never thought I would be smuggling myself,” Han noted grimly as Ben pushed up his own panel with C3PO and the astromech droid that Uncle Owen had bought: Threepio had identified it as R2D2 in a rare fit of delight. Luke swallowed the tight feeling in his throat at that- they were dead, and he had to accept that. Ben struggled to push his panel aside, but his eyes widened the moment he saw them. Or, more accurately, what was behind them that none of them had noticed.

“Smugglers never do,” said a sardonic voice from behind them, slightly mechanical and weirdly familiar. Luke jumped and turned to find a robed figure, hood pulled up and obscuring his face standing over the panels. He was tall and broad, that much Luke could tell, with golden glyphs sewn into the blue robe. Despite the fact that he was clearly not a slave, Luke recognised those swirls and signs as Amatakka- the secret language of slaves Aunt Beru had taught him. He didn’t know much, but he knew remembrance charms when he saw them- Aunt Beru wore hers around her neck too, usually tucked away under her clothes. This man wore his in the open, proud, a defiant move against the masters. Han had his blaster raised but the man raised his hands in a sign of peace. “The Princess of Alderaan is currently a guest for her Imperial Majesty. You’ll find her on the upper floors.”

“Who the hell are you to be giving us help?” Han asked, his alarm loud and clear both inside and out of the Force. The man just cocked his head, the cloak tilting with him. There was a curious similarity between it and the dusty brown robe Ben wore.

“A friend if you need help, otherwise an advisor for my niece. Be aware though. Vader is out there, waiting.” With that the man turned away, the robe sweeping out behind him as he left and descended the ramp. It revealed that he was wearing black boots, black trousers and a loose black tunic underneath, more Amatakkan glyphs sewn in blue thread on the hems. The silence he left was almost deafening, Ben looking almost as if he were in shock. Luke gently poked at the old man’s shields, offering silent help, eliciting a surprised jump from him.

“Where did you learn to do that?” he asked, startled. Luke blinked at him, wondering at the suspicious tone of voice.

“Aunt Soka taught me,” Luke said honestly. “She wouldn’t teach me any katas though.” He _wasn’t_ pouting, no matter the incredulous look that Han was giving. What did it matter now? Old Ben had given him his father’s lightsabre and a lesson in basic katas that he had been begging Ahsoka to give him for _years_ , and every time she had brushed them off, telling him he had no reason to know how to fight. Always with the same excuse- _there’s no need for you to join the war, Luke._ It had been the same reasoning Uncle Owen had given him, after he got over the minor heart attack that Luke’s inquiry about joining the Imperial Academy had given him. Sixteen wasn’t too young to join he had argued. Uncle Owen had disagreed, and the argument had continued for near a year until Ahsoka had gently told him that a life as a soldier was not what his father would want for him. That, along with a long letter from his father when he _did_ turn sixteen, had gotten him to reconsider, and so the argument to at least become a pilot had begun. That one just seemed to amuse her.

“Aunt Soka?” Ben asked, alarm evident in the Force.

“Yeah, she was a student of my father’s,” Luke said. “You must have known her?” Ben made a strange strangled noise as C3PO popped up and R2 beeped from his position still in the compartment.

“Oh, thank the Maker,” the gold coloured droid bemoaned. “I had thought we would be sold for scrap! Are you quite alright Master Obi-Wan?” Ben just blinked at the droid and Luke wondered if he should have perhaps kept his mouth shut. Thankfully, Han seemed to decide that he had had enough talk of Force powers that day. Or that he just wanted his money.

“I don’t know about you, but I would like to get paid,” the smuggler grumbled, pulling himself out of the compartment. “Your friend seems helpful enough.” No doubt Han had worked with shady people in the past. Luke just led in silent agreement, discomforted by Ben’s actions. What was so bad about him knowing Ahsoka? Or anything about his father? Of course, he had been mad that his Uncle had kept the fact that he was _alive_ from him, but his father’s message had gone some way towards explaining why. He had mentioned something about only realising Luke was alive some time after his birth, something about a sister that had Luke excited and a promise that they would meet in person one day. Uncle Owen had allowed him to comm his father on his birthday every year since, but Luke had yet to see his face, or hear him without the sound of a scrambler distorting his voice.

Two filched uniforms and a pair of cuffs later, they were leading Chewie through the Space Station, the Force whispering odd warnings to him every so often. At one point, Luke had dragged Han further towards the lift, a voice prompting him to do so in order for their ruse not to be blown quite so quickly. Ben had wandered off somewhere, ostensibly to turn off the tractor beam, but Luke could have told him it was pointless. The soft hum that had been the tractor beam was gone, already turned off. C3PO and R2D2 followed at a respectful distance as droids were supposed to, although it grated on Luke for them to do so. As much as Threepio liked to be dramatic, he had some good stories of his parents and not all of them mired in the middle of a battlefield. He’d also mentioned something about his father’s astromech having the recording of his parents’ wedding, something that Luke rather wished to see, if only so he could get a glimpse of them. Luke was fond of the protocol droid, who doted on him the moment he’d managed to access the back up memory banks in the droid’s head, cleverly hidden under several wires and looking innocuous.

The first room they entered was clearly the wrong one. First of all, it was much too elaborate to be a guest room- it was decorated in the typical Imperial fashion but had been enhanced with flowers Luke had never seen (many wilting in the vases now, clearly having been there a while) and an entire wall given over to an extensive bookcase. This was no office, but rather a front room, harsh chairs and desk replaced by large cozy sofas, far more comfortable than those Luke was used to on Tatooine. And sat on one of them, reading a large book, was a girl too young to be Princess Leia. She couldn’t be any older than thirteen, long hair twisted into an elaborate braid around her head, dress a deep dark blue with black accents. She glanced up when they entered.

“The Princess is down the hall,” she said coolly, hardly surprised to find them in her room. She then, strangely, flashed him a bright smile. “It was nice to meet you Luke.” And promptly returned to her book. He felt Han stiffen next to him, clearly wondering how she knew who he was, but Luke found himself… unsurprised. At the moment she said that, a polite knock had occurred on his shields and a planned layout of the Death Star willing given up along with a name.

“Thank you Milè,” Luke said, already turning to where he had been prompted. Han staggered to follow, hissing questions the visor wouldn’t quite let him hear. Chewie, however, seemed unperturbed and roared something that had Han shouting, “What do you _mean_ it’s a Skywalker thing?” That had Luke pause a moment but decided to ask later. He knew from Ahsoka that his father had been rather more famous than Old Ben had let on and Luke had originally just assumed that Ben thought his father had been killed in action. Now, though, he began to wonder if Ben had intentionally hidden that fact from him.

The next room they entered, Luke was nearly bludgeoned by a lamp and Han swore at the Princess extensively when it made contact with _him_ instead. Leia dropped the lamp quickly, startled, eyes narrowed.

“You’re a little short for a Stormtrooper,” she observed, and Luke pulled the visor off, deciding it was hardly needed anymore.

“No, I’m not one. I’m Luke Skywalker. We’ve come to rescue you!” She still stared at him suspiciously but silently came with them, allowing Luke to put her thin wrists in the spare cuffs they had, broken of course, and let them lead her through the Death Star. Occasionally, Han would try to take the wrong direction, but Luke pulled him back, muttering that that way wouldn’t do them any good. When they came to one of the hidden service stairs, he pulled the panel aside and Leia stopped him.

“You seem rather knowledgeable about this place,” she said stiffly. Luke wondered how much to tell her, considering for a moment and noting that she shared a strange similarity to the little Imperial Princess they had met earlier. He wondered if they were related somehow.

“Milè gave me a map,” he said simply, leading them down, towards the private hanger the _Falcon_ had been left in. A twinge in the Force warned him that there was somewhere else they needed to go first, and so turned out a floor up, towards the main hanger instead. He wasn’t sure what was leading him, but it felt warm and familiar and… _comforting_ , like Aunt Beru’s warm soups when he was sick or Uncle Owen’s gruff hugs when he had been scared of the sandstorms when he was little.

“She didn’t give us anything,” Han said sharply, alarmed.

“It’s… a Force thing,” Luke said, not entirely sure how to explain it. “Aunt Soka would be able to explain it better.” Which was true- she had experience explaining the Force to non- sensitives, had done so many times to Uncle Owen whenever he was confused about something Luke had done. And then made the point that he had inherited his father’s penchant for finding _any_ kind of trouble. Leia blinked, clearly surprised.

“You’re Force… of course you are, you said your name was Skywalker,” she said, sounding mildly berating of herself. Han glanced between them, clearly confused.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Han asked and Chewie gave a quiet rumble. “I didn’t think he was related to _that_ Skywalker, the guy lived on Imperial Centre!” Another grunt and whine and Han stopped dead in his tracks a moment, suddenly staring at Luke like he had grown another head. “You’re seriously not telling me you're _Anakin Skywalker’s_ son? The Hero with no Fear?” Now it was Luke’s turn to be confused and without any time to do so. The Force was whispering a warning, something about Ben and that they really _needed_ to get down to the hanger.

“I…” he paused, torn between finding something out about his father and the warnings being thrown at him. Ultimately, the fact that he could always ask his father later won out. “Yeah but we _really_ need to go,” he said, turning and moving again, at a faster pace than before. “I think Ben’s in danger.” Leia didn’t question any further, keeping her own questions to herself.

They found Ben facing off against a great black monstrosity and Luke half wanted to jump in to help. The thing moved heavily, clunkily, as if it had to calculate each step it took, while Ben goaded it. Or at least, that was what Luke assumed he was doing- Ahsoka had always been much faster with her sabre techniques and katas. Luke had never seen Ben’s practice, but it couldn’t be _this_ slow, could it? Even Leia had paused, crouched in their corner as they watched the slow battle commence, men running around in a rush, shouts to _Find the Princess_ echoing around the hanger. So, they already knew she was missing. Luke wondered what the point of that was.

_He used to be a lot better than this_ said a quiet voice, coming from that warm feeling Luke had been followed by across the Death Star. He jumped, startled, eyes wide.

_Father?_ He questioned and he got the feeling of a smile and a gentle kiss on his forehead.

_I promised that we would meet, didn’t I?_ His father’s presence retreated then, just as the monstrosity raised the blood red sabre and Ben closed his eyes, sabre held in front of him. Luke jumped out of his hiding place, already knowing somehow what was about to happen.

“NO!” he half screamed, raising the blaster that he had held onto. No matter whether Ben had lied to him or not, the man had been his mentor, had looked over him for years. He couldn’t just sit there and do _nothing_. Lukcily, he didn’t have to. Ben, distracted by Luke’s shout, turned to face him and completely missed the tall form of Milè’s uncle dropping from… _somewhere_ , a dark purple sabre snapping to life and cleaving the hulking mass that was Darth Vader into two separate pieces. He then severed the head too, just for good measure. Ben jumped, turning to face them just as the Princess rounded the corner, sliding something back into her pocket.

“I believe it’s time to go,” the man said, and it finally clicked. Luke dropped the blaster, dropped half the thoughts he had had and ran into the arms of the man he had dreamt of for all eighteen years of his life, already open and waiting for him.

* * *

Leia wasn’t entirely sure how she felt. Giddy, that the monster was dead. Confused, that she had just been helped by the impossible son of a Jedi. Awed at the fact that said man was still _alive_. Suspicious that he had appeared with the little brat. Disappointed in the visage that was Obi-Wan Kenobi, wholly unable to defeat Vader who had been easily cut down by this stranger. It was… a mess. And about to get messier as the hanger appeared to stop, Troopers halted in shock at the death of their commander, the Force swirling in disbelief that the hulking menace was _gone_. And Luke, completely oblivious, clinging for dear life to a man who clung just as desperately back. She just wasn’t sure how to process this.

Obi-Wan, however, still had his sabre raised.

“I wouldn’t,” the little brat said, still fiddling with something in one of her many hidden pockets. Her hair had come undone from the ridiculous Nabooan style it had been bound up in, falling in delicate waves around her in a brown halo. She was eyeing Master Kenobi like he was an enemy she had yet to find a way to defeat. “Mother would be sad. So would Luke.” Obi-Wan twitched at that and the lightsabre found its way back to wherever he had been keeping it. Her aide, _Anakin Skywalker_ , gently pulled back from his son with a soft whisper and turned to face them. She couldn’t quite see his features under the hood, but she could make out a pair of blue eyes, damp from the small reunion with his son. She wondered how long they had been apart.

She then wondered who his mother was.

That line of thinking was abruptly cut off when he gestured for them to follow, the little brat jumping forward to cling to his unoccupied hand like a child. She silently huffed and rolled her eyes, but gladly divested herself of the cuffs, following them away and back towards the service stairs that Luke had found. Led them to. Been influenced to take. And she found herself remembering the girl’s words from earlier. _Not everyone who opposes the wrinkled old raison are members of the Rebellion._ Did that mean that Anakin Skywalker was opposed to the Rebellion? Was that why he had never revealed himself to them? Why he had been hiding away elsewhere? And clearly keeping in better shape than the older Jedi Master, who was trailing behind them like a lost puppy, winded and confused by this turn of events. It almost seemed like he had expected to die here and was now lost, confused on what his next steps ought to be. She decided to hang back with him, watching the small trio up ahead as Luke stuck close to his father, conversing quietly and staring up at him in awe.

“Master Kenobi,” she said softly, aware of the similarly starstruck smuggler and his Wookie companion who were close by. “It is an honour to meet you.” The old man blinked and turned towards her, eyes dulled by something. He offered her a gentle smile, the Force a quiet storm around him, confused.

“And you, my lady,” he said, soft Coruscanti accent still in place all these years later. “Although I’m not sure how much of my efforts have helped over these years.” An honest admission and Leia resisted the urge to frown at him. Just what _had_ he been doing for these past eighteen years?

“They are appreciated now,” she said instead. Her father would most likely know. Obi-Wan drooped a little, seeming not to agree with her.

“They have hardly amounted to anything,” he said, glancing ahead. “I’ve failed.” _He doesn’t know_ she realised. _He doesn’t realise the Princess has no love for the Emperor_. “I don’t know how we will escape, I wasn’t even able to disable the tractor beam before I was discovered by… Vader.” There was an odd pause as he said that, as if he wasn’t entirely sure who he had just been facing. Leia filed that away for later.

“I think the Princess has already covered that,” Leia said a little stiffly. It annoyed her that she had done little to nothing to help the Rebellion so far. Sure, Master Kenobi had gotten the message, but R2 was still here, beeping away at Skywalker ahead, and the Rebels were still in danger. Her _family_ was still in danger of the Death Star. “She doesn’t seem to want to be on here anymore than we do.” She also seemed incredibly unconcerned that she had just watched her uncle be cut down. Perhaps she had been using him, instead of the other way around? The Force was whispering that she had come to the wrong conclusion, but she just didn’t know what it was trying to tell her. Her training was more towards shielding her presence towards the likes of Vader and the Emperor. No one had taught her how to _use_ it. Maybe, if they had, she would have been able to get out of this situation on her own, rather than rely on strange messages and Princesses that didn’t believe in the Rebellion.

Eventually, they came to the Princess’ private hanger, consisting solely of two ships. A sleek Nabooian cruiser and a travesty of a YT-1300 Corellian freightor. She wondered how the thing was still flying, which the smuggler took great umbridge to when she voiced her opinion.

“Hey, she managed the Kessel run in 12.5 parsecs!” Han objected, insensed and Leia stared, wondering what on earth _that_ meant. Obi-Wan didn’t seem perturbed and watched as the Skywalker’s appeared to be having some kind of argument.

“But I want to go with you!” Luke was saying when they came within earshot, sounding very much like he was whining. Anakin was shaking his head, one hand placed on his shoulder.

“I promise, we will meet again Luke. But for now, you can’t come with us,” he said, and Leia could hear a catch in the man’s voice, slightly mechanical as it was. _He has a vocal implant?_ That was a surprise. Perhaps Anakin’s injuries had prevented him from joining the Rebellion and now he was trying different avenues. It was clear, however, that the man wanted to leave Luke as much as his son did. “It’s too dangerous.”

“But-“ Luke cut off, stubbornly looking away, angry. Anakin gently tilted his son’s face back up, hands covered in black gloves.

“ _Fiori melra shia, Luka*_ ,” he said, startling both Leia and Luke. _What language is that?_ Leia wondered. She had never heard it before. By the way Luke reacted, he _had_ but wasn’t expecting it. Anakin reached up and tugged something off of the rough, corded necklace that hung around his shoulders and placed it into Luke’s hands. “I promise.” He placed a gentle kiss to Luke’s forehead before bringing him in close, murmuring something too quietly for them to hear. When they pulled apart, Luke was crying silently, and Leia got the feeling that Anakin was withholding his own tears. “Now go.” With that, Luke nodded, stepping away and watching as Anakin and the Princess entered the cruiser, blasting off from the Death Star without looking back.

Ten minuets later, after Han had piloted them away from the space station, it exploded, showering them in debris as they descended to Alderaan, Luke watching from the cockpit as Han swore viciously. Obi-Wan was merely sat silently, in some form of shock, no words left to say. It didn’t feel like victory somehow.

**Author's Note:**

> * We'll be together again, Luke.
> 
> This took me a very long time to write. Originally, they were all going to leave together, but then I decided that that didn't make sense, so I had to go back and rewrite the entire second half, which flows much better now. Also hello Tarken and goodbye Tarkin. No, he doesn't get off the Death Star- Anakin has a serious grudge after he tried to get Ahsoka killed. I don't understand why he would have any kind of 'understanding' with him. Even in A New Hope you get the feeling that Vader's only tolerating him and Tarkin isn't stupid enough to outwardly get himself killed should he not have total control over Vader.
> 
> Hi, Luke, I promise I'm not attempting to torture you. Since Luke currently knows that a) his father is alive and b) used to fight in the Clone Wars and c) has an outside source on his father, he isn't clinging to every word he says like in the OT. That's not to say he wouldn't be fond of Obi-Wan- the man's been with him his whole childhood. He's just giving old Ben the benefit of the doubt. He doesn't yet know that the lies Kenobi told him were in the interests of killing Vader and having him commit patricide. Again, when Luke confronts him about this in RotJ, Obi-Wan brushes it off with 'from a certain point of view'. Well, Obi-Wan Kenobi, from a certain point of view the Emperor is correct in that the Jedi were attempting to take over considering they didn't consult anyone else other than themselves in arresting Palpatine. Or fishing out some concrete evidence. Or not using Anakin as their own personal listening device, despite knowing that Palpatine is a friend and confidant of Anakin's... and I'm going to stop ranting now. Ahem. We'll come back to that.
> 
> As for Leia, poor Leia, who is still working under the lies she's been told and events are happening just a little too quickly for her to put a and b together. She is attempting to work with the information she has, but unfortunately half of it is lies and the other half is buried by the Jedi. And yes, I agree, if Obi-Wan wanted to prevent Vader he ought to have done a better job and, if he really thought that Anakin was his brother, would not have left there to BURN ALIVE. Ok, I swear, I'll leave these rants for another time now. Back to Leia. This also leads back to how she's similar to Anakin. A lot of the time we see her (and Luke) jumping first and thinking later. Most of the time it works out for her (less so for Luke. Er… sorry Luke) but sometimes, like the beginning of RotJ, it doesn't, mildly premeditated plan or not.
> 
> Anyhow, I hope you've enjoyed this (and ignored the ramblings of an irritated person, ahem) and I'll see you in the next update. Not necessarily going to be in chronological order.


End file.
